Fleeting Earth Hours
by Holly Chase
Summary: "A little magic can take you a long way." (Roald Dahl) Or in Alabaster's case, a lot of magic pushes him in a full circle. :: Dedicated to the people who lost their lives and loved ones on 9/11.
1. 9-11-1997

_A.N. Hello all viewers! This is my 2nd Percy Jackson multichaptered story and the first in which I am actally organised in (yay) it's going to be focused on Alabaster C. Torrington from the Demigod Diaries and for those of you who don't know, he is a son of Hecate and on Luke's side in the Titan war. When Hecate was forgiven for joining the titans the gods agreed for her children to be unpunished on their return to Camp Half-Blood but they outcast Alabaster because he was not loyal to the gods - he pretty much hated them, actually - and he was left on the streets where Laima, his monsterous half-sister, joined the fun. In the end Alabaster and Claymore, a man who prett much ties their fates together, escape from Lamia after Alabaster discovers a spell that can bind Lamia to the earth. And that pretty much wraps up the story, I'd still recommend reading it though - it's amazing._

_So, I should be updating this once a week, I have the first 18 chapters written out and am about half way through the 19th so I am nicely into the swing of things by now._

_Please take the time to leave a review with CC or praise or just a quote you did(n't) like. I'm not fussy, although flames will be used to set people's houses on fire ;) Consider yourselfs warned._

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**Fleeting Earth Hours**

**9-11-1997**

It was cold in Mississippi, as wind snatched at scarves and the long fingers of winter began to steal August's warmth from the world.

Carlos sat by the bar, gulping down large quantities of beer when she walked in.

Or, more accurately, Carlos was drowning himself in something alcoholic when he heard the door swing open, then close.

"A cherry spritzer," she said, pulling down the hood of her cloak. Carlos glanced at her from the corner of his eye in passing as she pulled out a stool beside him.

Gulping down the last of his drink, Carlos sat back watching the world spin by in bright colours.

"What are you doing here?" he said as she pulled something round and black from her coat pocket.

"Will I answer that question?" she asked the ball.

Then she held it up so that Carlos could read the message. It was blurred, but through the meandering letters, Carlos could just make out the words 'no chance'.

"You have a magic-8 ball?" he asked slightly sceptically.

She turned to face him properly, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and Carlos was immediately struck by the intensity of her eyes. They were bright green. No, that didn't do them justice. They were incredible, impossible.

"Don't you believe in magic?" she asked.

Carlos reached behind her ear, pulling a dollar and twisting it between his fingers. "Should I?"

She blew into her hands, and threw them wide casting a free a bird that flew towards the rafters in a spiral. Carlos stared; mouth open and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't you believe in magic?" she asked again.

"How did you-?" began Carlos.

"I've got to go," she said quickly as her drink was placed in front of her. Then she turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement: "See you round, Carlos."

And before Carlos could ask her when and where and how she knew his name and what was hers she had gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

There was a long, slow whistle from behind the counter as Benedict eyed Carlos in an impressed manner whilst rubbing down some glasses.

"You've got one good un there," he said with a wink. "Tell her she'd be welcome here from 5 'til 6 on a Saturday for the entertainment, I'm sure I could squeeze something as special as that between the fiddlers."

"I'll tell her," said Carlos and as Benedict turned away, "if I ever see her again."

Pushing his tab across the table he said; "How about I pay for half now and make it up to you by playing tomorrow?"

"Done," said Benedict with a wry smile. "Just make sure you add 'Don't Speak' to your playlist."

"I can't sing it alone," said Carlos.

"Janie will sing with you," smiled Benedict.

"I thought you didn't like 'modern music'?"

Benedict shrugged, "What with all the teenagers in here these days, I thought we may as well get with the times."

"And you're using me to head your statement," finished Carlos, grinning.

"Problem?"

"Nah," Carlos laughed. "Bring on the next generation," he paused and thought through his words. "Wow, I sound _old_."

He left the pub with Benedict's roaring laughter following him through the door into the cold autumn air.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Carlos felt something cold brush against his cheek. _Rain_?

He looked up into the clouded sky and frowned: snow.

It snowed in a small blizzard around him; Carlos cupped his hands and watched in a kind of awed fascination as the snow flew towards him. Between his fingers, the crystallized ice melded together until Carlos was holding a note, slightly damp, but still paper with words scrawled across it.

_Don't you believe in magic? Catch'ya later - Helena_

Carlos shook his head, smiling broadly and blinking in astonishment. Then he folded the letter and, twisting it between his fingers, headed home.

He would see this Helena again.

_Catch'ya later_; he thought with a new spring in his step.

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	2. 9-11-1998

**9-11-1998**

"Can't catch me," shouted Helena. Her green eyes gleamed as Carlos bundled towards her, huge coats masking their movements and huge boots slowly them right down.

They still played catch though.

"Give up?" her cheeks were flushed red, and Carlos felt a hint of pride that he was the one she would let down her superior airs to act like a kid.

"Never!" he blundered towards her, catching her around the waist, "Gotcha."

She smiled and kissed his nose.

"I don't believe you," and then they were dancing along the ledge, looking down on the cold city of Caribou and giggling like three year-olds.

Her impossible green eyes searched his face and his bluer than blue eyes stared right back at her and they lost themselves, falling for each other all over again as the first freeze turned the world white around them.


	3. 9-11-1999

_A.N. Another short one here. So, no reviews last chapter...? Sad :( _

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**9-11-1999 **

"He's gorgeous," said Hecate with a gentle smile that lit up her heart-shaped face. "What did you call him?"

"Alabaster Carlos Torrington," said Carlos, hardly able to even look at Hecate and instead focusing on his small son, trapped in her tattooed arms. "A little vain, I know but…"

"I like it," said Hecate softly, glancing at Carlos who looked away quickly. She sighed; "Look, I'm sorry. But you knew what you were getting into-"

"I did not 'know what I was getting into'," said Carlos heatedly, but keeping his tone low so that his mamá and papa would not wonder who he was talking to. "Telling me you're 'high maintenance' does _not_ cover godhood."

"I told you in the end," whispered Hecate. "That's more than I do for some."

Her words were carefully placed, each one thought out.

Carlos knew slips of words.

"So it's less than you do for others?" he spat as Hecate leant towards him, he tried not to lean in to her. That slightly green aura still surrounded her and her black hair still shone in the light and her eyes were still that shade of impossible green.

Carlos could still see the world in those eyes.

"No," said Hecate slowly. Then she got up, white dress swirling around her knees her two animal companions who followed her everywhere stood beside her.

"Good bye, Carlos," said Hecate, brushing her lips to his before disappearing.

Carlos stared at his reflection, shell-shocked and brought his fingers to his lips.

"And I'm still in love with you," he whispered to the empty space where Hecate had been standing.

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_Remember - reviews are love!_


	4. 9-11-2000

**A.N. Hey people! I've been missing those amazing little things called reviews recently... *hint hint***

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**9-11-2000 **

His smile was wide and almost toothless, with small white pearls peeking over the grin of his lips.

Carlos grinned down at his son with uncharacteristic softness glinting from the gentle blue folds of his irises.

"You have her eyes," he said again.

It was something he often said when he was alone with Ali.

'Her eyes' was his thing, Carlos saw 'Her eyes' everywhere but especially in Ali who squirmed in his arms, fussing over the lack of tickling and shrieked whenever someone wearing a top hat.

This was a lot, because they lived in Mississippi where magic hung in the air and between the layers of humidity and because Carlos loved magic.

"Who wants some food?" asked Carlos, swinging Ali into the air and grinning at the peals of laughter. They filled the sparsely decorated apartment with joyous sounds like songbirds and stars like the luminous one covering the ceiling.

As he strapped Ali into his high chair to open the jar of banana and something mushy that Carlos's mamá had brought them, the lights turned green and glowed.

Carlos had his eyes closed when he turned back to his son.

When he opened them it was to illusion upon illusion of rabbits and stars and small dogs that kept rushing past Carlos's legs and leaving purple trails behind them.

Ali clapped his hands and cried out happily as he fashioned birds and eagles and Carlos stared in amazement. Lions weaved between table legs and prowled around Ali's chair whilst flowers sprung from the tiled floor and coiled around the fridge.

With shining eyes, Carlos tore his eyes away from Ali's creations to his son who smiled: a bright green aura of magic surrounding him and bursting into purple sparks.

Smiling broadly, Carlos placed the bowl of baby food before Ali and sat down next to him crossing his legs as the jungle Ali had brought to life danced and spun around him into a desert and then finally to an ocean where thousands of green tinged fish swam through the mirage of water.

It was beautiful magic, pure and a wonder to behold.

Carlos's thoughts turned, unbidden, to another magic weaver with green eyes and dark hair who wore shimmering dresses and sandals.

As Ali nodded forwards, the images disappeared along with his consciousness but Carlos stayed a little longer in the kitchen, just watching the fridge with a cold feeling settling inside of him.

Then he turned and picked up Ali, holding him against his chest so that Carlos could feel the soft beats of his son's heart through his onesie and Carlos's thin sweatshirt. Breathing in the sweet baby smell, Carlos headed towards Ali's room, holding the sleeping child as though he was a shield.

And maybe Ali was a kind of protector of Carlos's heart.

All that kept it from freezing completely.


	5. 9-11-2001

**Thanks to musicrox14, Guest and Clefspear for reviewing! You get gingerbread men!**

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**9-11-2001 (3)**

"Nieto," Carmen called. "Ali, where are you, cariño."

She heard the tell-tell giggles, suppressed but still there and smirked, closing the door behind her. "Where can he be?"

Ah-ha, Carmen could see two pairs of glinting eyes shining from next to the sofa.

Carmen swooned, swaying as if faint; "Oh, mi querido hijo. What shall I do with all the ice-cream I was going to give him? I suppose Henry and I will have to get through it as best we can."

She turned around, heading towards the kitchen door when she was tackled from behind by what felt like a small cannon-ball. Ali grinned up at her, gap toothed and pudgy and floppy haired.

"Ice-cream," he said happily.

Tapping his nose, Carmen lifted Ali so that he was sitting comfortably in her arms. They shook, strained but Carmen laughed and burst into the kitchen shocking her husband who had been filling out the crossword and declaring it 'ice-cream time'.

As she got down the bowls grabbing the scoop the doorbell rang. Henry got to his feet, putting Ali on the floor.

"That'll be Carlos, right on time for ice-cream as always," he smiled.

Carmen and followed him and they closed the door on Ali who was pushing a toy car along the tiled floor.

When they opened the door, it was not Carlos. Instead it was a woman in a black suit with sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Henry and Carmen Torrington?" she said more of a statement than a question. "I'm afraid that your son is dead."

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**Remember; reviews are love!**


	6. 9-11-2002

**Hi again! Thank you to Clefspear for reviewing. It doesn't matter how long the review is, or even if it's a quote you particularly liked. I love you. Here are cookies (::) (::) XD**

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**9-11-2002 **

Breakfast was a cold and soggy affair, Ali decided as he poked some porridge suspiciously with his spoon.

Trying some, Ali quickly decided that food should not be a) gray, b) lumpy or c) made by Ms Hemmings, who, whilst being unfailingly nice, could not cook to save her life – nor those of the orphaned children in her care.

Next to him, Finn, who always ate everything on his plate be it food or not grinned and spooned vast quantities of sloppy porridge into his mouth. On Ali's other side was Jo who, like Ali, relied on Mr Hemmings's lunch money and evening meal to get by.

Ali pushed his porridge around his bowl, waiting until Ms Hemmings left the dining-room to wake Rose up before standing and scooping his breakfast into the bin, Jo followed suite and they waited for Finn to finish before heading out of the house towards the stream.

Stream, was a bit of a misleading term and actually referred to a small rivulet that cut across the very last field and edged forest boarding Brackstood farm and separating it from the allotments next-door.

It was by this 'stream' that Ali, Jo and Finn had most of their conversations. As Finn was the only one of them at school, the other two found his stories of lessons and chaos and pranking both alien and terribly exciting and Ali found himself hardly able to wait until September when he would be joining the infants at Calsbury Elementary School.

It was also at this stream where Ali discovered something very important.

He could do magic.

"I'm _so_ hungry," complained Jo, clutching her belly.

"You should've eaten breakfast," said Finn shaking his head, "you both threw it away."

"Because it was disgusting," Jo wrinkled her nose.

Ali's stomach groaned and he found himself wishing for food.

There was a whoosh and a burst of green light and some sort of spiked symbol and suddenly Ali was holding a burger in his hands.

He stared at it in disbelief, squishing it between his fingers. And then, because it turned out to be real Ali pushed the burger towards Jo, staring, bewildered, at his hands.

"Ali, what-?" Jo stopped talking as she looked at the burger. She looked at Ali: "_What_?"

"I made it appear," said Ali in a small voice and he was extremely conscious of Jo and Finn looking from the burger to him to each other.

His hands trembling, Ali studied his palms for any signs of green.

Nothing.

Then, fist clenched, Ali thrust his hand towards the rivulet.

The flash again… brighter this time and what looked like a half circle with a dot in the middle appeared in the midst of the green.

The stream burst its banks immediately, flooding over the grassland and soaking Ali, Finn and Jo to the skin. Then, the water rushed back down the slope and disappeared, leaving a faint gorge shape where water once ran.

"What?" Finn's voice was shaky. "H-how did you do that?"

Al shrugged.

Jo burst into tears taking off towards the farmhouse, and Finn followed her casting scared and angry glances back at Ali for the first ten steps or so, as if he was worried Ali might chase after them. Finn caught up to Jo and pulled her towards the ground where they sat, Jo's face buried in Finn's shoulder and Ali watching with something uncomfortable settling in the pit of his stomach.

Then he turned towards the eroded path of the vanished river, but his gaze was blocked at once by a woman. She had dark glasses that mirrored Ali's own face back at him, distorted and twisted, and her skirt swayed at her ankles and her arms were covered with tattoos.

She held out her hand: "Come with me."

Ali took it as the twin torches faded from the air above his head.

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	7. 9-11-2003

**9-11-2003 **

Ali's first day of school was after everyone else's. Mr Ray-Hatchet had taken a while to sort out his paperwork and somehow Ali's birth certificate had been misplaced causing him to miss his first few weeks of school.

Ali was sat next to a girl call Gil.

Gil was smiley and sat next to Ali during class because her name was Tahle and his was Torrington and they came next to each other in the ABC thing they had been learning about.

She was good at writing and adding her sheep and Ali wasn't so she helped him with finding the letters that wriggled around on the page.

Miss Beck took registration and when she got to Ali she stumbled: "Al-Ali-bast-er Torrington?"

"Alabaster," said Ali suddenly. "It's Alabaster Torrington."

"Right," Miss Beck wrote a note in the margin of her register. "Katie Verstle…"

"Cool name," said Gil, grinning.

"Thanks," said Ali – or Alabaster as he would be from then on – smiling back and feeling very glad that he was called Alabaster now.


End file.
